


Roll for Initiative

by seer_of_void (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: HSO R1, Illustrated, M/M, Sex dice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/seer_of_void
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave procures a pair of sex dice.</p>
<p>Team John/Dave's HSO R1 entry. Prompt: Gambling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roll for Initiative

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely illustrations courtesy of [ems](http://archiveofourown.org/users/homebiscuitskillet) (homebiscuitskillet.tumblr.com)!

TG: so egbert  
EB: what, i'm busy.  
TG: well excuuuuuse me princess  
TG: hell naw you aint busy  
EB: i'm doing homework, dave, it's a little something called "not failing english."  
TG: pleeeeease youre aceing that class  
TG: got ms finklestein wrapped around your little pinky  
TG: any essay that you so much as breathe on becomes a masterpiece of literature analysis the likes of which high school has never seen  
TG: dont try to tell me you cant afford to get like 5 points off this one its not even a paragraph its annotations and she never checks those  
TG: just do what i do and write "dicks" over and over again in the margins  
TG: she just glances at it and sees that you applied pencil to paper so clearly you did the reading  
EB: dave.  
TG: ok obviously you need to take a break and stop thinking about catcher in the rye for like three milliseconds  
TG: trust me  
TG: literature will be as far from your mind as it can get once you get an eyeful of these sweet mamas  
EB: are you sending me shirtless pictures again? because my dad found those the last time and things were really awkward for a while after that.  
TG: nah its even better  
TG: hotter  
EB: um, ew.  
EB: last i checked your idea of "hot" was zac efron in "seventeen again."  
TG: i cant help it ok his doe eyed nice guy image just fills me with the urge to tie him up and feed him bonbons  
TG: but anyway this is a totally different kind of hotness  
TG: try me  
TG: http://tinyurl.com/egbertyouregoingtoclickthislink  
EB: ...  
EB: fine, i guess this homework wasn't getting done anyway.  
EB: if it's fucking 2girls1cup, your ass is mine and i am never letting you copy my homework again.  
TG: striders honor, its not  
TG: its even almost worksafe  
TG: hehehehe  
EB: ...wait. dave.  
EB: are those what i think they are?  
TG: clearer than liquid crystal hd display  
EB: because those are definitely sex dice.

  


TG: awww look at the little baby internet learning to walk and recognize sex toys isnt he adorable  
EB: dave, they say "fondle" and "butt" on them, it's not a great leap of logic.  
EB: why are you sending me pictures of sex dice?  
TG: because this isnt any old google imagesearched pair of sex dice  
TG: these are REAL  
TG: i have them in my hand as we speak  
EB: why.  
EB: no.  
EB: how?  
EB: better yet, how do you type so quickly with them in your hand?  
TG: its a figure of speech theyre in my room somewhere  
EB: whatever.  
EB: what are we supposed to do with sex dice?  
TG: oh i dont know  
TG: im sure we can think of something

\---

"I can't think of anything to do with these things," Dave says, staring at the dice (currently showing the words "lick" and "breasts").

John, seated across from him on the bed, reaches over and picks up the actions die. He turns it over his fingers, vanishing and then unvanishing it. Dave watches as his fingers move deftly and rapidly, so fast they seem to intersect each other in midair sometimes. "I dunno. We could roll them?"

"Yeah?" Dave slumps down and buries his face in his Midnight Crew comforter. "And then what?"

"I don't know, blog about it or something! You were so psyched for it earlier!"

Dave wants to tell him that it was a lot easier to be excited about owning a stupid pair of sex dice while talking online with his best friend than to be excited here, now, when said best friend is seated across from him on his own bed, and Dave can't take his eyes off his hands. Dave wants to say something to make this less cripplingly awkward. Instead he just groans and stuffs his face into the bedsheets, mumbling to himself.

"Well," John says after a pause, "we could always just do what they say."

Dave pushes his shades down the bridge of his nose and gives John a Look.

"What? It would be hilarious! Like, ninety percent of the time these things just roll weird unsexy things, like 'lick knee' or whatever. It would be funny!"

"If you think I'm putting my face anywhere near your gross-ass knobbly knees, you... you're wrong, is what," Dave says.

"Hey! My knees are _not_ knobbly! They are the pinnacle of beauty. Aphrodite's knees."

"Whatever," Dave says, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. "I'm mad hungry. Let's get our nosh on."

"Wait!" John reaches out and grabs Dave's wrist as he starts to get up. "Nuh-uh, no way you're backing out of this one. You dragged me here, so now _you_ have to pay the price. Unless you're too chicken to do it."

"I ain't no chicken," Dave says hesitantly. "I just don't really... want... oh god don't give me the eyes about this, John, these are sex dice, you're an idiot." John's giving him the wide-eyed, watery look that makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Dave sits back down on the bed and heaves a sigh. John produces the other die from somewhere-- his sleeve, probably-- and holds them out invitingly.

"C'mon, dude, just one roll."

"We should set up a camcorder. Could make some fine moolah on this hot teenager mackin' action," Dave says, trying to ignore his pounding heartbeat and the blush that's spreading from his ears to the rest of his face.

"Aw, c'mon, just 'cause your Bro does weirdass puppet porn doesn't mean that everything sexy has gotta be on film, Dave, you should know this. Anyway, this isn't going to be sexy, it's gonna be hilarious, just watch," John says, and tosses the dice. They bounce a couple of times on the bed before one of them drops to the floor, spinning on its point and wobbling precariously like the top in the end of Inception. Dave's feels like he's about to pass out from anticipation when it finally drops with a nearly audible crash.

Dave's eyes flick towards the die on the bed. It reads, "lips."

"Well? Go check the other one!" John urges, bouncing up and down on the bed impatiently. Dave heaves a sigh and slips off the bed to go pick up the other die. He crouches down over the little cube. His eyes widen in horror as he realizes it's landed on "suck." Without glancing back towards John, he takes one finger and rotates it so that "fondle" is face-up instead.

"It's, uh." Dave picks it up, taking care not to turn it at all. "Fondle. So--"

"C'mere," John says, and grabs a handful of the fabric of Dave's shirt to tug him closer. "I am going to fondle the shit out of your lips. Get ready to be seduced hardcore." His fingers reach out and brush against Dave's lips, at first just with a light touch, but then he gets bolder and uses the other hand to stretch them into weird shapes. Dave rolls his eyes at him; this is kind of embarrassing, but it isn't so bad compared to what he _could_ be doing, right?

"Ha ha, you should see your face right now!"

"Mmmmph mph mmllff." John smiles crookedly, which makes Dave's stomach feel queasy.

"Okay, now you do me," he says, taking his hands away. Dave blinks at him. "What? I finger-groped your mouth, so now's your chance to take revenge, right?"

"Uh," Dave says, staring wide-eyed at the spot exactly 5 inches to the right of John’s face. John snaps his fingers underneath his nose and he jerks out of his temporary reverie.

“Geez, what’s with you! You’ve gone into sleep mode ever since I fondled your lips. Did I accidentally trigger a switch? Bleep bloop, I am a Davebot.” He grabs Dave’s hands by the wrists and moves them robotically. Dave prays to God-- or maybe to Karkat-- that his face only feels hot because it’s summer and the AC is malfunctioning.

“...Fine, I guess, if you _really_ want me to manhandle your mandibles,” Dave says with an exhale, and when John releases his wrists he reaches out to touch the other boy’s lips. He freezes there for a second, not sure what he’s supposed to be doing, when he feels something warm and wet caress his fingertips. He recoils as if burned; John sticks his tongue out.

“You _dick_! You _licked_ me!”

“Aw, c’mon, you shoulda seen that coming,” John says with a grin. “Well? C’mon, grab the dice and let’s roll again!”

“What? No, not so that you can punk me a second time,” Dave says, trying not to dwell on the memory of John’s tongue running across his fingers-- what was _wrong_ with him?-- or the way he continues to hold the victimized hand in midair, paralyzed, afraid to touch it or wipe it off on something. Something about this feels kind of fucked up. He bites on the inside of his cheek. This isn’t even close to being funny anymore.

“If you’re not gonna roll the dice, I’ll do it myself,” John says, reaching out to grab them where they lay on the bed.

“No--!” Dave tries to stop him, but John’s already merrily picked up and tossed them on the bed. They bounce a little and don’t fall off this time. Dave sort of doesn’t want to look at what they say. Fortunately (or unfortunately), John reads them aloud.

“Oh, um. Nibble, um, thighs,” he says, and Dave breathes a sigh of relief; there’s no way they could possibly go through with something _that_ overtly sexual. John seems a little stunned too, or contemplative at least, with the way his teeth are worrying his bottom lip. They’re both silent for about ten seconds.

Finally, John says, “Well, since I went first last time...”

Dave’s jaw hangs open, a chill gripping his chest. Slowly, he turns his head from side to side in refusal.

“Pff. Chicken,” John says. “I never took you for a loser, Dave. Fine, I’ll do it myself, whatever.” He gets down on all fours and places a hand just above Dave’s knee. Dave’s wearing shorts today on account of the heat, but suddenly he’s wishing he had on full-length jeans. Or, hell, a fucking onesie; anything that would prevent John Egbert from touching his bare skin like he is right now. He rests one hand on Dave’s knee while the other slides inexorably closer to somewhere Dave’s pretty sure his best bro’s hands have no business going.

“What does ‘nibble’ mean, anyway?” John inquires from between Dave’s legs, in a position that’s undeniably suggestive and yet frustratingly innocent. His breath is cool against Dave’s heated skin. “Like, I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s not biting, but maybe like light scraping of teeth or something? I dunno, when I think of nibbling, I think of how there were mice that nibbled through the wires in our house once and Dad had to call pest contro--”

Something inside of Dave snaps. In one motion, he seizes John’s head and shoves him backwards across the bedspread, and pulls his knees in close to his chest. The dice clatter to the floor.

“Dude, what the fu-uck?!” John shouts, voice cracking.

“I-- we should stop. This was a bad idea. I should never have gotten those stupid fucking dice,” Dave says. His tongue feels almost too thick to force words out.

“No, it was a _hilarious_ idea, _you_ were the one who said we should-- what the fuck is your problem? Chillax, it’s just a little gay chicken--”

“No, it isn’t! No one fucking uses _sex dice_ for gay chicken, they’re for, like, couples who are already in relationships, jesus, I didn’t mean I wanted your _face_ in my _crotch_.”

“I was only doing what the dice said ‘cause you were too scared to.”

“I didn’t want this,” Dave says in a small voice, and curls up into an even tighter ball.

“Then you should have said something!”

“I _did_ , but you were all, oh, hurr durr Dave’s a chicken derp i’m gonna stuff my sniffer right up against his family jewels, ha ha it’s not gay if it’s sex dice right? Ha ha, derp.”

“That is an awful impression of me, dude. Look, calm down, ok? It’s not that big of a deal.”

“If it’s not that big of a deal,” Dave says, turning his head back to look right into his eyes, “then why were you so obsessed with keeping the game going?”

“Oh. Um.” John looks at the mattress, suddenly less confrontational. “It’s because, um.”

“Um? Um what? Don’t leave me hangin’ here,” Dave says, but John is suddenly reserved and nonresponsive. Dave reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder but John brushes him off and looks away. Frustrated, Dave grabs his wrist instead; John jumps when Dave touches him and twists back around to face him, wearing a wide-eyed expression on his face as if he’s just had an epiphany.

A little frightened, Dave tries to back away, but John reaches out and grabs his shoulders so that he can’t move.

“Okay, what, c’mon, spit it ou--” Dave starts to say, but then John pulls him closer and slides one hand behind his head to grab his hair and

kisses

him

right

on the

mouth.

At first Dave is unable to do much other than gape, fishlike, as their glasses clink together and something that’s warm and wet-- correction, Dave’s brain, that’s _John’s fucking tongue_ \-- slides in between his lips. But then, as if by reflex and no conscious decision, he starts kissing back. Only when their teeth grate together do his eyes reopen and his senses return to him. Sliding an arm up between them, he gently but firmly pushes John away and falls back on the bed.

Both of them are breathing heavily. Dave can barely hear anything through the blood pounding in his ears. John looks up at him through crooked glasses and uses the back of his hand to wipe his lips dry.

“So, uh,” John says. “...Yeah.”

“Um.” Dave runs his tongue across his teeth and wonders if that all really happened. They sit in silence for a deeply uncomfortable span of time, during which Dave is trying his hardest to not think about anything at all.

Eventually, John is the one to break the silence: first with a heavy sigh and then with words. “So, um... can we talk about this, like, rationally? As in, not like horny teenage boys.”

“Uh,” Dave says hoarsely, and clears his throat. “Yeah. I guess. Let’s stop hollering at each other like, like rabid baboons, and, um. Talk. Talking is nice.”

John nods. “Yeah. So, I guess...” he traces a stitch in the mattress with his finger. “I guess I miscalculated.”

“Uh?”

“I mean. I misread your intentions, but it was going so well, and my prankster’s gambit was at an all-time high, and I couldn’t just-- I mean.” He sighs again. “I can’t really play that last part off as a prank, can I.”

“Well, no, not with the whole tongue-massaging my tonsils there. No. I mean, maybe if you hadn’t started it, but--”

“Well, maybe if _you_ hadn’t been all like, ‘oh hey John, I’ve got sex dice, let’s play with them and totally not make out while we do it, and also I’m gonna make bedroom eyes at you the whole time’ I wouldn’t have-- no, wait, that’s a totally shit excuse.”

“Damn right.”

“Sorry. I guess, I just... you’re really pretty,” John says, sheepishly. “Not even, like, for a guy, I mean I don’t generally even notice guys, it’s just, you, I just... sorry. I’ll stop. This is soooo gaaaaay.”

“Dude, I thought we transcended the whole homophobia thing back when i had a dad-slash-brother-thing who was gay and Rose was Rose and we lived in the twenty-first century.”

“So, this isn’t gonna, like, totally ruin everything, right? You’re not gonna block me on pesterchum and never speak to me again?”

“Well, I kissed back, didn’t I?”

John gives him sidelong look from behind his glasses, and slowly starts to grin. A corner of Dave’s mouth quirks up. For about a minute, neither of them say anything.

“...But, um, this whole staring-into-each-others’-eyes bullshit is kinda gay, dude.”

“Haha, yeah.” John stretches out and dangles his legs off the bed, taking up an absolutely ridiculous amount of space with his limbs. Dave always has had trouble reconciling this kid with the pizzafaced thirteen-year-old he met so many years ago. Dave surreptitiously scooches a foot or so closer to him.

“So, uh--”

“So do you wanna like--” John says at the same time, and then they both crack up, laughing until their chests ache, and John’s hands find Dave’s hair eventually and run through it repeatedly, and then laughing turns into kissing in a transition so gradual it would be hard to tell when one ended and the other began.

On the floor (buried deep in the shag rug and fated to be a hazard for the next person to walk in Dave’s room with bare feet), the sex dice lay forgotten.


End file.
